


A Lion in Snakeskin

by lyraonyx



Series: The Darkest Star [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cowardly Remus Lupin, Dark Sirius Black, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Guardian Severus Snape, Hogwarts Third Year, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Oblivious Albus Dumbledore, Smart Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29103705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyraonyx/pseuds/lyraonyx
Summary: When third-year Harry witnesses the grim that's been haunting him attack Severus Snape, then overhears the headmaster brush off Snape's injuries and fears as if they don't matter, his entire perception flips upside down.Severus, on the other hand, has always seen Harry as he truly is, even if no one knows it.*All characters are aged up 1 year*
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Series: The Darkest Star [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135400
Comments: 78
Kudos: 516
Collections: A Labyrinth of Fics





	A Lion in Snakeskin

**Author's Note:**

> First work in the series is gen. Second, I think, is pre-slash. The final work, when Harry is of age, will be Snarry. These are all longish oneshots, or at least that's the plan.
> 
> Disclaimer (because, given current and past events concerning non-heteronormative characters in JKR's world, I think it's probably wise to start adding them to my stuff): There are tiny fragments of original canon in here, denoted in italics, which are JKR's creation, but the plot of this story (minus those events which follow canon) is my brainchild. I don't own the characters or the original plot, and I certainly don't make any profit off of the series (Merlin, wouldn't that be nice!). I just have fun mushing their faces together in my dollhouse. 
> 
> Enjoy!

#  **THE DARKEST STAR**

##  _PART I_

##  **A Lion in Snakeskin**

* * *

Severus plucked another harvest orchid and placed it in the basket draped over his arm, but his fingers hesitated over the flower next to it. Not an orchid, a lily, growing out in the darkest reaches of the forest of all places. He traced a spidery finger with loving precision over velvet petals and soft leaves. 

_"Look what I can do, Tuney!"_

_"You're a witch!"_

_"That's not a very nice thing to say to somebody!"_

Severus drew his hand away and left the daisy where he found it. He might have been best served to leave the human Lily alone, too. For all he had coveted her attention, her presence, her loyalty in those early days, she had never been his. 

No, that half-starved wretch of a boy had never belonged in Lily's sphere of light and love. Three streets had separated their childhood existence, and yet, they had grown up in different worlds.

Much like himself and another half-starved wretch he could mention. For all they had lived similar lives, for all Severus would rescue the boy if he could, a world of war and fate separated them. It was safest that he keep his distance this time. Perhaps, if he kept his too-greedy, poverty-stained hands where they belonged, the boy might survive. 

He had greater concerns regardless.

Severus brushed his memories aside and reached for another orchid.

 _Snap_!

The sound, tiny and distant, echoed like a gunshot in Severus' spy-trained ears. Damn. Someone—or some _thing_ —was coming. 

Severus weighed the odds. In this area of the forest, it might be a centaur—they did so like to roam—but it might also be an acromantula. 

Or a werewolf.

No, no. He had made damn sure Lupin finished his wolfsbane before he left for the night. It wouldn't be Lupin, but the possibility of a wild werewolf remained, or something even more dangerous.

Before he could move, a grey streak shot across his foot and tore away into the trees. A rat? No being that small could make _that_ kind of ruckus. 

So whatever was coming was a predator then. And centaurs didn't eat rats.

Severus grabbed hold of a low-hanging branch and swung himself up into the boughs of a nearby sycamore. A hasty spell to hide his scent and magical aura blended with the disillusionment charms already woven over his frame, and he hunkered down to wait until the threat passed. The undergrowth cracked and snapped and crunched under large, galloping feet—closer, closer—and Severus held his breath. 

A huge black dog bounded into the clearing, sniffed the air, and growled. Severus went rigid. Damn. In his panic, he had forgotten to clear his scent from the area as well as himself. Well, it was just a dog. A well-aimed jinx would send it running for cover, if necessary. 

The dog snarled and whirled about, sniffing the air in search of Severus. Definitely necessary.

And yet, as he took careful aim for the dog's hindquarters, the sight of a strange, white marking on its hip gave him pause. He had seen this dog before… somewhere.

The dog gave a frustrated huff, growled, and trampled as many flowers as possible before shooting off into the distance. The lily Severus had so carefully preserved was, of course, the first to perish.

Severus decided, not for the first time, that he was _definitely_ a cat person.

* * *

Severus struggled to remember where he had seen that dog for the next several weeks. The familiarity of a rude beast shouldn't bother him so, and yet, it nagged at him. Somehow, despite appearances, he knew it was crucial that he unravel the mystery.

With what few spare moments he had between classes, Potter-related-rescues, answering Albus' every trivial beck and call, and shoving Wolfsbane down Lupin's ungrateful throat, he searched through his recent memories for any hint of the animal, but he found nothing satisfactory. A discovery of footprints there, a flash of tail whipping by on forest trips there, nothing to explain this all-encompassing sense of dèjá vu that wouldn't let him be. Where in the blazes had he seen it before?

Having exhausted his available mental resources for the time being, Severus used a quiet night to check the progress of his crop of frost roses. He had painstakingly planted them in the centre of a copse of beech trees by the lake five years ago. The plants needed shade, copious amounts of groundwater, an exacting climate, and the presence of beech sap to grow well, and their first harvest would bloom any moment. 

A good thing, too. Frost roses were prohibitively expensive, given their long bloom cycle and finicky choice of habitat, but the chopped petals made a powerful, non-addictive version of Dreamless Sleep when added at the right moment, and Merlin knew both Severus and the Potter boy needed one night without nightmares. Well, Severus couldn't give the potion to Harry himself, but Albus would see that it made its way to the boy without throwing suspicion on Severus' loyalties. In that, at least, Severus could rely on the old man's wisdom.

A flash of silver as he approached the clearing sent a jolt of excitement rushing through him. He had done it! He had grown a notoriously difficult, ultra-rare plant with no assistance, and now, he could ensure his young charge slept well. His shoulders straightened and his steps fell with a jaunty spring. Joy was so rare in his life, but at the moment, he felt he could crow with it. What a professional accomplishment.

But, in his distraction, the sound of rapidly-approaching footsteps didn't register. Just as he knelt to scoop the first of the blooms into his harvesting basket, a vicious growl sent him jerking up. What the hell?

A black streak bounded into the clearing and sank its teeth into Severus' wrist. The dog from the forest! Severus released a shocked cry and struggled to free himself, but the beast had his wand arm. He kicked the dog square in the chest, ignored the pain of tearing flesh and the spatter of his own blood, and aimed his wand at the creature. 

" _Repello An_ —"

A fierce growl and a crush of weight against his chest knocked Severus onto his back and forced the wind out of him. His heart sputtered and ice shot through his veins. He had neither the breath nor the time for a second cast, and his throat was unprotected. Vulnerable. 

"Ah!"

The strained cry escaped him involuntarily. Ten years evading the dark lord and all his minions, and it was a dumb beast that would be the death of him in the end.

No. No! He couldn't go like this. He still had work to do, and Potter needed him. He let his fear and anger collide in a rush of raw, wandless power, and sent it barrelling into the beast. The dog yelped and went crashing into the trees, whining with every step.

Thank Merlin. Severus sank onto the ground, shaking all over and dazed in the wake of his sudden bout with his own mortality. Too close. By god, that was far too close.

A boisterous, youthful voice rang out, "Oi! You can't just go attacking innocent animals!"

"Ron, hush." A softer, gentler voice brushed Severus' ears. "I don't think—Merlin, he's hurt. Badly." Potter's face appeared over him, green eyes dark with concern. "Sir? Are you okay?"

Of _course_ he wasn't okay! Bloody hell. Severus would snap out of pure pain and fear, if he could catch his breath long enough.

Harry winced. "No, you're not, are you? 'Mione, do you have anything…?"

A feminine voice replied, "No, not for a wound like that. He needs the Infirmary."

Harry grimaced. "Thought you might say that. Sir, can you stand?" His grip on Severus' uninjured hand was gentle, far more so than his treatment of this child deserved. For an instant, Severus could do nothing but tremble as Harry hauled him to his feet and braced his waist. 

"Come on, sir. That's it. You're all right now."

The gentle, worried tone of his voice pierced Severus' mile-thick walls and rebounded off his broken heart. This boy had every right to loathe him, every right to leave him to suffer, and yet he wanted to help.

But Severus couldn't let him.

It tore something in his soul to do it, but he wrenched himself away from the boy and sneered down his nose at him. "I am capable of caring for myself without the bumbling _aid_ of a foolish, pampered, bleeding heart Gryffindor child and his troupe of nitwits."

Potter's eyes went hard. "Doesn't look as though you're doing a bang up job, if you ask me."

"Thankfully, I did _not_ ask you. Ten points from Gryffindor for interfering in my personal affairs, and if you do not return to your common room this instant, I will take ten more for every second you waste my time with your odious presence."

Harry scoffed. "You're welcome, _sir_." 

"Five more points for disrespect!"

Granger tugged on Harry's arm. "Come on. He's obviously well enough to take care of himself if he can take points. Let's go."

Harry cast Severus a brief, uncertain look before he allowed his friends to drag him away.

Severus didn't let his angry posture slip until the children had disappeared beyond the hillside. He slumped against a beech tree and rubbed his face in weary misery. Gods. How much he wished he could treat the boy with the kindness and dignity his unselfish care had earned. How much he wished he could mentor the boy rather than treat him like scum.

He thumped his head against the trunk and cursed his miserable fate. Caught between worlds, never a resident of either. No place to call home, no one to trust but himself. What a lonely life he led.

A twinge through his wrist reminded him he was out on the grounds, alone, and with his wand arm injured. He forced his shaking legs steady and gathered his wits. Had any of his roses survived?

He surveyed the wrecked clearing and struggled not to let his crushing disappointment show. Only three flowers had weathered the devastation, and one had been compromised with Severus' blood. What was worse, if he intended to keep any stock of this extremely rare, priceless ingredient, he would have to allow all three to go to seed. 

So much for sleep without nightmares. 

He sighed and, after clearing away the blood and traces of human residue, warded the clearing from all presences but his own. Would that he had had the sense to do that sooner, before that wretched beast had mangled his arm and wrecked five years of his work. Apparently, his wards hadn't classified a raging mutt as a "pest" for all that it had caused Severus all manner of pain and suffering.

Merlin, he hated dogs.

* * *

Harry glanced back one last time, unsure if they were doing the right thing by leaving their injured professor alone, even if he _had_ boxed their ears for trying to help his ungrateful hide. His seeker's eyes picked Snape's form out of the darkening landscape and tall trees. The dungeon bat persona had faded, and the man had slumped against a tree, one hand pressed over his face. Harry debated on going back to help him, but it would do no good. Snape hated him, even when Harry couldn't hate him back. 

The knowledge sent a surge of hurt straight to his heart. What had he ever done to deserve such loathing? Harry wasn't nearly the monster Snape liked to say he was. And all that rubbish about his parents—well, that was just plain mad. His parents had been good, nice, perfect people, and Snape was just bitter. 

And yet, seeing the man so defeated, weariness and pain clear in every line of his features, watching his expression shift into misery at the sight of the clearing—had those flowers been important for some reason?—Harry couldn't deny Snape's humanity. He found himself worrying about the git and wondered at his own capacity for stupidity. Bleeding heart Gryffindor indeed. Snape would boil him in oil if he knew.

"Harry, come on, mate," Ron urged. "I don't want to be the next unlucky sod that barmy dog tries to make a meal of."

Harry nodded and followed his friends back into the castle, though the pain in Snape's eyes haunted him long into the night.

* * *

"Albus, are you even _listening_? There is a dangerous mutt on the grounds! This is the second time I have had a run-in with the beast, and it was damn near the last."

Harry ducked further into his corner, wishing he had taken an alternate route to the charms classroom. In worrying over Snape, he had overslept that morning, well past breakfast. He had hoped to at least catch the end of the lesson, but instead, he had stumbled upon Professor Snape in a heated argument with the headmaster and barely ducked into a nearby corner in time to avoid _another_ detention. Thank Merlin he had thought to bring his cloak, as he couldn't leave now without drawing their attention.

Damn his blasted luck. 

He couldn't see them, given as they had hidden themselves in a spare classroom ahead and pulled the door to, but the door hadn't shut all the way. Every word echoed in his ears, and Harry stood in silence, afraid to breathe lest Snape's superhuman ears heard.

Dumbledore answered Snape's demands in a placid tone. "Now, Severus, I _did_ say I would look into the matter—"

A small, grey figure darted out of the room and vanished down the hall. Scabbers? Perhaps he had been responsible for the cracked door. Or maybe it was the furry orange streak that shot after him an instant later.

Snape cried, " _Look into it_? Did you not hear me say the beast has attacked me twice now?"

"My hearing is functioning quite well, Severus."

Not that anyone could miss the volume of Snape's shouts. Idly, Harry thought 'Severus' was a nice name. Pity it belonged to such a rude arsehole.

"Then do tell me why you react to the news that a mad beast mangled my wand arm with no provocation as if I had come discussing the weather. Do the sacrifices I make for your benefit truly mean so little?"

Snape sounded honestly hurt. Harry squirmed at a writhing in his belly. The man, much as he didn't like him, kind of had a point. 

"I find, at my age, allowing myself to become so enraged is not good for my blood pressure, my friend. Sherbet lemon?"

Harry frowned. Blood pressure and sweets? Merlin. He never imagined he would have cause to sympathise with Snape, but at that moment, he did. Not that Snape would care.

"Your bloo—Albus, for Merlin's sake. Look at me. Look what the beast did. And those frost roses—do you have any idea how rare, how hard they are to grow? I had planned to use them to ease my nightmares and those of your precious golden boy. They cost a fortune, take five years and an incredibly rare habitat to cultivate, and are a notoriously difficult plant to maintain, and that beast cost me my entire crop! I…." He took a shuddering breath. "Does none of it matter?"

Harry's jaw dropped, and tingling shock rocketed through his veins. Snape knew he had nightmares? And he _cared_? Enough to use a rare, expensive ingredient to help him?

Oh god. Harry's heart sank into his feet. Mad as it was, because Snape surely would chew his ears off if he dared mention it, Harry thought maybe he'd misread the man all along. No one else had even noticed his bad dreams except Ron, and they lived together. No one else had ever tried so hard to help him either.

His belly turned to lead and his eyes stung. Maybe Snape wasn't just a rude arsehole after all. Not that Harry would ever be stupid enough to say it to his face.

"Of course, Severus," Dumbledore replied. "I did tell you twice I would look into it."

Snape scoffed. "Like you looked into Black's abuse? The fact that he attempted to murder me before I even took my OWLs? The little incident of _'bullying'_ by the lake? Like you 'looked into' those crimes? Excuse me if my confidence in your ability—or, perhaps, your desire—to help me is lacking."

Black had tried to kill Snape in his fifth year? _Merlin_. Could that really be true? Maybe Professor Lupin would know. They had gone to school at the same time, after all. Something like that would have _had_ to be common knowledge. 

Wouldn't it?

"Severus, please. You know there was no choice but to keep those instances quiet—"

Harry pressed his hand over his mouth to stifle a gasp. _'What!'_

"—An innocent would have been executed if—"

"Fifteen innocents died due to your decision to protect one," Snape said in icy tones. "Chief among them, my only friend and the woman you swore to me you would protect when you forced me into servitude. Don't preach to me of your altruism and noble goals, Albus. I saw you for the sociopath you are years ago."

_'Bloody hell!'_

"Severus, please. I am not a sociopath. I am simply an old man trying to do what is best in the middle of a brutal war."

"Best for you, you mean."

"For _everyone_ , Severus. For the greater good."

"Oh yes, you're quite happy to do what is best in your eyes for everyone around you, and never mind their choice in the matter or their individual wellbeing. Unless, of course, protecting an individual suits your plans. Or, as you so often put it, _the greater good_." Snape spat the words like poison.

Dumbledore said nothing for a moment. "You know as well as I do that sacrifices must be made in war. Perhaps you know that best of all."

Harry collapsed against the wall, knees weak and shaking all over. Sacrifices? His parents were a sacrifice? Snape's friend? Snape and Harry themselves? He didn't want to believe it. He couldn't cope with the possibility that Snape was a tortured, abused man and Albus Dumbledore had been instrumental in both his and Harry's pain.

But Dumbledore had all but confirmed it himself.

_'Sacrifices must be made….'_

God. How utterly cruel.

Snape gave a bitter laugh. "Oh yes, sacrifice indeed. Only it seems that it is Potter and I who bear the burdens of your noble _sacrifices_ for the cause, but then, this is war, and you are correct that I know it well, no thanks to your manipulations."

"Severus, I—"

"I wonder, Albus, if you realise what happens to your grand plans for peace if that mutt kills me. I do hope you have another pet spy lined up to take my place when your capriciousness leads to my untimely demise. No, I am sure you do. You keep your ducks—or, perhaps, your pawns—in perfect rows, like lemmings ready to leap at your command. Merlin help the poor fools."

Snape stalked off, all fury and dark drama, and for once, Harry couldn't blame him. If even one accusation he had levied at Dumbledore during that fraught conversation was true….

Then that changed _everything_.

Dumbledore sighed and walked away, and Harry stayed tucked into his tiny corner, breath held tight, until the old man's footsteps faded to silence.

"Bloody hell." He slid down the wall, too shaken to support himself. 

No. It couldn't be real. It must have been a dream, or maybe he had just misheard… that entire conversation. 

Unable to deal with the enormity of having every established truth of his existence turned on its head—again—Harry staggered to his next class and tried to pretend he knew nothing. And yet, when Snape berated him in potions the next day, Harry couldn't bring himself to fight back. 

It couldn't be true.

But what if it was?

* * *

Harry lasted all of three weeks before he had to know the truth, or at least some of it. Going to Snape or Dumbledore directly would only end in detention or pats on the head and a pile of sweets, but no answers, so he decided the indirect approach was best. The Slytherin approach, maybe, though he wasn't very good at being cunning. Still, he might have enough in him to pull off an innocent question or two. 

The problem was, where did he start? Snape had given Harry so much new, disturbing information, he could barely wrap his head around it. And maybe that was where he needed to start: making sure Snape was a reliable source.

Hm. Snape had said he was Dumbledore's spy, hadn't he? Maybe he could start there—carefully. If Snape really _was_ a spy, revealing his identity would put him in danger. 

Harry considered his options and decided to start with his friends. The adults would probably just brush him off if he asked anything about spies. Mum Weasley certainly would.

Harry waited until Ron had him invested in a game of chess and Hermione was studying nearby to pose his question, as casually as possible. 

"Do you think the headmaster needs spies?"

Judging by Hermione's suspicious look, Harry hadn't quite pulled off the casual guise. Still, he would trust her with Snape's identity a long way before Ron. 

"Spies? For what?"

"I dunno. Just wondering, I guess." He motioned to the board. "It's kind of like a battleground, you know. So it just got me thinking."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, and Harry reckoned he had best stop trying to 'explain' before he completely gave the game away. 

"It's obvious, innit?"

Harry gave Ron a curious look. "Obvious?"

"Yeah. I mean, come on, Harry. We've only narrowly escaped another of You-Know-Who's mad attempts at world domination every year since we started Hogwarts. Who do you _think_ Dumbledore might need spies for?"

Harry's gut dropped. "Voldemort. Merlin. I didn't consider that."

"Of course you didn't, given it was just a whim based on a chess game," said Hermione, and Harry changed the subject. Fast.

"What do you reckon his next plan will be then? Voldemort, I mean. Do you think he's using Black to get to me, or is Black just a nutter of his own accord?"

Ron rubbed his knight on the board without changing its position. "Hm. You know, I've no idea. I mean, everyone _says_ Black is after you, but everyone says you're a bloody hero sent from Merlin one day and a miniature dark lord in training the next, so who knows if it's actually true."

Hermione gave him a wry smile. "That was actually a very intelligent answer, Ron. Well done."

He glared at her. "I'm not a total plonker." He placed his knight with a smirk. "Knight to F4. Checkmate."

Harry looked at the board and groaned. "Every bloody time."

* * *

With confirmation of Snape's potential position as a spy—and, Merlin, Harry hoped the man wasn't trapped in _that_ kind of nightmare—Harry tried to find answers to his other questions. Namely, what the hell Black had done to him, and if Dumbledore had ignored it. A late-night check of Black's discipline records from '74 to 75' revealed nothing out of the ordinary for a prankster boy other than a tendency to be a bully. Harry didn't know what to make of that. It could be that there was nothing to report, of course, but then, if Dumbledore _had_ covered up the crimes, there wouldn't be a record of disciplinary action. 

Harry considered checking Snape's records, too, but decided against it. Snape would flay him alive if he ever found out, and the man had an eerie ability for uncovering Harry's every infraction. No, best not to poke _that_ bear.

Besides, it felt… wrong, somehow.

Harry let his hand fall from the 'S' records without touching them and slipped out of the records room. He made his way to Gryffindor tower with as much speed and stealth as he possessed, but Snape was far sneakier.

The man appeared out of nowhere just before the turn to the tower, and though Harry froze immediately and silenced his breath, it was no good.

"Potter," Snape snarled, "where are you, you little fool?"

Harry didn't dare breathe.

"Do you imagine I cannot _feel_ your presence?" Snape peered through the night, eyes cold and hard. "Even if I cannot see you, I know you are here. It is well after curfew, and…." The expression on his face shifted. The cold fury vanished, and something like determination and relief took over, if only for an instant.

"I would think one with such lauded parents as yours would appreciate the sacrifice they made for you."

A flicker of terrible pain flashed in Snape's eyes, and then it was gone. 

"I would think, knowing as you do that there is a mass murderer on the loose who has your name down as his next victim, you would have the sense to stay well away from public areas after nightfall, when there is no one about to protect you. I would _think_ you would care, with that oversized Gryffindor heart of yours, about the sacrifices we are all making to ensure your safety." 

Snape closed his eyes briefly. 

"Do you imagine the dementors are kinder to adults, you foolish, foolish child?"

Harry's stomach was cold and heavy, and his eyes burned. _'I was only trying to find out the truth. And I'm safe under my cloak anyway.'_

"Your father had a way of hiding himself, too," Snape said in a lethal whisper. "He used it to bully his unsuspecting peers and torment the life out of innocents—"

Harry pressed his hand harder over his mouth to prevent a gasp.

"—But did you never consider that Black also saw and participated in those antics and, thus, might be _aware_ of your little tricks? That he might also know how to _overcome_ your pathetic attempts at stealth? That he might be able to _disguise himself_ as someone, or something else, and hurt you despite your 'protection,' a thin disguise at best? Or, like the Gryffindor idiot you are, do you imagine yourself invincible?"

Snape rubbed his wrist, still a little weak after all this time. 

"I assure you, brat, you are not." 

Tears slid down Harry's face, but he paid them no heed. Maybe he really _had_ been an ungrateful idiot, sneaking around after dark when the professors were doing their best to keep him safe, even down to suffering through the presence of dementors. 

Something in Snape's expression softened, though it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

"Should I catch you roaming these halls again after this, now that you know the truth of what we have all given to protect you—" He swallowed hard enough to be visible even in the dark. "Or most of us at least—if you dare to be so arrogant as to endanger your life again, I will personally see to it that there is no longer a _need_ to protect your ungrateful hide."

With that, he turned and swept away. Harry leaned against the wall, shaking, a long while after he had gone. Cold and brutal as Snape's words had been, Harry couldn't deny the truth of them. And, despite the threat, that they were meant as a warning rang clear, too. For all his swooping and snarling, Snape was trying to protect him.

Harry gave a shaky sigh, sent his professors a silent apology, and rushed back to the safety of his dorm.

* * *

Content that Harry had gotten the message despite Severus' cruel demeanour and reassured that the boy had returned to his bed, Severus resumed his sweep of the hallways. Black had ways to hide, too. He had experienced them firsthand as his favourite victim years ago, and damned if he would let Harry become his next target. 

_"I have done all I safely can to protect your boy, Lily. Let us hope it is enough."_

Perhaps it would be. Harry's thoughts had cut like knives in the end, his remorse and shame sharp enough to draw blood. Harry was reckless, yes, but he wasn't an ungrateful idiot for all Severus' position forced him to demean the boy. Even from an enemy, Harry would know a warning and honest reproach when he heard it. 

Severus hoped the child took the warning to heart and carried on searching. He _would_ find Black—and that blasted mutt—if it was the last thing he did.

* * *

The next evening, Harry learned the hard way just how wise Snape had been to warn him. Black had snuck in and slashed the fat lady, and no one knew how. As Harry listened to his professor and headmaster walk away, tucked in between Hermione and Ron under a false sky of clouds and stars, he vowed to watch his steps with greater care. Someone in the castle was helping Black get in—could it be true? Who would help a murderer? And why?

He went to sleep with more questions than answers.

* * *

Severus should have known better than to trust Hogwarts' safety to Albus and a horde of vicious, soul-eating beasts. Once again, the old man had let them down, and one of his students had nearly died for it. Well, at least one couldn't say Severus didn't learn from his mistakes—eventually. Knowing Black might have mauled his charge, too, had the fat lady not been brave enough to challenge him was the last straw. 

If Albus wouldn't do more to ward the threats from Hogwarts, by god, Severus would do it himself. 

He cloaked himself in a black hood and the additional protection of a disillusionment charm and started at the gates. He cleared his mind and focused on the threats he needed to block—Sirius Black, dementors, werewolves, and mad dogs.

The wards against the beasts weren't perfect—even the best he could do wouldn't hold forever against a magical being. They weren't foolproof against humans or animals either. If Black or the dog landed inside the wards or went around them somehow, they could be bypassed, but this would certainly make it more difficult for anyone to hurt his students.

With a deep breath, he let his devotion to his charge fill his heart and power his core. He invented and altered the chant as he walked the grounds, lost to magic's flow and subject to its every whim. He warded the secret paths twice, just in case, and didn't stop until he had circled the entire grounds.

Severus leaned against the gates and groaned. His legs wobbled and collapsed under him, and his arms and shoulders ached from hours of complex spellweaving. Merlin, what an exhausting night. He popped the cap off of the magic replenishing draught in his pocket and downed it in one go, followed by a Pepper-Up, a mild pain potion, and a nutrient draught. In a few moments, the aches and pains melted away and his energy returned. Much better.

With the school and his person as safe as he could feasibly make it from deranged mutts and psychotic mass murderers, Severus gathered his wits and resumed searching the grounds for Black. Any clue, any hint could be the key to finding the bastard, and so, he checked everywhere he could think of until his renewed burst of energy ran out.

Worn to the bone and dejected in his failure, he wrapped his cloak tightly around himself and dragged himself to bed. Another night, another fruitless search. The more Severus searched, the more he despaired of ever finding either Black or that deranged mutt, but he refused to quit.

Harry was depending on him, even if the boy didn't know it.

* * *

Harry wondered why Snape had set them a lesson on werewolves for a long while. Most of the other students grumbled about the unfairness of it all, given the lesson was much further down the course syllabus, but he had learned to see hidden meaning in Snape's actions. He wasn't simply a bully, as that night in the halls had proved within twenty-four hours. He was doing his best to keep Harry alive despite his loathing, and even that seemed… forced these days.

After all, wouldn't a spy in Voldemort's ranks need to hate Harry, or at least _appear_ to?

The more he learned, the more Harry feared that overheard conversation had been true, and that changed his perception of everything. Who could he trust, if supposed enemies were struggling to protect him and benevolent old men used young boys and grown men alike to serve their goals? 

With every passing day, Harry's trust leaned more and more towards Snape, though he kept his alliance well-hidden with false anger and feigned defiance. He cared for Snape despite appearances and noticed more subtext hidden in everything the man said and did by the day. Snape couldn't make his concern obvious as a spy, but he could throw them hints, and this lesson on werewolves felt like a big one to Harry. 

Unfortunately, Harry hadn't quite the cunning required to understand whatever Snape wanted him to. Still, he reckoned that, if ravenous beasts with a taste for humans roamed the land on the full moon, it might be wise to stay safely indoors one night of the month.

Harry went on writing his essay and made it as sullen as possible, for Snape's sake.

* * *

Severus put aside Harry's essay with a sigh of relief. Another warning well-received, if Harry hadn't yet caught on to the subject of his concern. In time, Severus had confidence the child would put two and two together, or Granger would. For the moment, he had another conundrum on his hands. 

How in Merlin's name had Black snuck into the castle on Halloween?

He put his essays aside and stalked the room, struggling to find answers. Lupin wasn't talking, and, as usual, Albus had ignored Severus' hints that the werewolf wasn't as trustworthy as the old man seemed to think, but there had to be _some_ way to find answers.

Maybe he needed to go back to the source. Black had, by all rights, been a raving lunatic since conception. There must have been some hint, some clue as to his secrets, something Severus had missed or, considering it unimportant, had overlooked at the time. 

With a flick of his wrist, Severus removed his first memory of Black and let it play out against the wall before him. This method wasn't as immersive or complete as a pensieve would be, but given Albus' lackadaisical attitude towards the entire affair, Severus had less than no desire to request the use of the headmaster's. The old man would probably find a way to delay him anyway, as he knew full well _why_ Severus would want it.

Still, this worked well enough to be getting on with. He might, at least, discover a hint as to where to start searching. 

_"You'd better be in Slytherin," a young Severus said to his fiery-headed friend._

_"Slytherin?" James Potter shot him a contemptuous look. "Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, don't you?"_

_The boy next to him—blue eyes with a dark gleam, black, shaggy hair, and a cold expression no twelve-year-old should be able to emulate—stared at his lap and crossed his arms over his stomach. "My whole family has been in Slytherin…."_

* * *

How the bloody hell had that dog gotten onto the grounds again? Severus paced the wardline, searching for a flaw in his protections, but nothing revealed itself. Every inch of the wards all but glimmered with the power of his spells, so how in Merlin's name had that mutt managed to sneak into the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff quidditch match? 

Had it brought the dementors? No, no. Vicious beast that it was, no animal had that kind of capability. They didn't even fully sense dementors, not having the depth and range of emotion of a human being. Still, both dog and dementor had _somehow_ slipped by all the protections Severus had laid against them, and now he had no choice but to reinforce the wards with blood magic. 

It was his own blood, after all, a willing sacrifice given to protect those he cared for. 

And, if Dumbledore complained, Severus would remind him of the little blood ritual his precious Gryffindors had performed over his dear toy weapon. What was good for the lion was good for the snake, or so it should be.

Either way, he would make damn sure that beast didn't endanger his charge, his students, his livelihood, or his life again, even if it cost him half his blood volume to do it. Blood replenishers would do to make sure he lived to regret another day.

Severus slashed the wrist the dog had torn and let it bleed a crimson line of protection around the grounds. It might take him a week or two to complete the circle, but by god, when he was done, Harry would be _safe_ , and so would they all.

From one of the resident mad mutts with a taste for human blood anyway.

* * *

Harry was ready when the next full moon rolled around. He made all sorts of plans the night before to be on the lookout for trouble. Maybe he would ask Professor Lupin for spells to protect himself and the dorm. Yes, that was a good idea.

The only problem was, Lupin wasn't about. Harry searched the castle, but saw no sign of him, and the professor didn't answer the knock on his office door. 

"Huh. Maybe he's not feeling well." The thought triggered something uncomfortable in his brain, but Harry didn't understand what.

He shook it off and let it go. Maybe it was for the best. Revealing that he had taken Snape's essay seriously might put the man at risk, and Snape was already looking peaky. Harry didn't want to pile any extra stress on him when he looked as though he might faint on them any moment. 

He had to admire the man's ability to snarl and carry on as usual in spite of his illness, though. If Harry hadn't seen his pallor and the bags under his eyes, hadn't caught the tremor in his hands, he never would have known Snape wasn't feeling his best.

For Snape's benefit, Harry carried on with his day, too, and, if he sat by the windows and kept a close eye on the grounds that night, no one paid him any heed.

* * *

Harry debated on the safety of using the Marauder's Map to join his friends in Hogsmeade versus staying in the castle and, eventually, decided it would be safest where there were plenty of students and teachers to protect him. As such, he did sneak out, but he stayed close to Hermione's side and explained his reasoning when she chided him. With the honourary big sister of the trio thus appeased, the trio set out for a treat in the Three Broomsticks, Harry hidden under his cloak and protected between them.

What Harry overheard there left him shaken and reeling. Black had been his father's best friend. He had betrayed them to Voldemort, and now fifteen people were dead, including Snape's friend and Harry's parents.

His parents—Merlin help him. Everything he had known about them was wrong. Well, maybe not his mum, but his father… ugh.

Snape's words kept rolling around in Harry's brain. _"Your father… used it to bully and torment innocents… Black participated in his antics…."_

By everything Snape and the other professors had said, Harry gathered that his father and Black had been horrible bullies, spoiled and rich like Dudley. 

And Snape had been their victim.

Maybe Snape really _did_ have a reason to hate Harry after all. The thought hurt more than it should have done. 

_'I'm sorry, Snape. I didn't want to hurt you.'_

But Harry's family, it seemed, had done it for him.

* * *

The Firebolt he received as an anonymous Christmas gift confused Harry, particularly as he received a perfectly good Nimbus 2002 at the same time. The Firebolt was, of course, the higher standard of broom, as he would have known even if Ron hadn't shouted it to the rooftops, but something about the entire situation put Harry on edge. Why did he need an international standard broom as a student? He was just as well with the Nimbus.

Unfortunately, Professor McGonagall had confiscated both. To look for curses, she had said. Harry pretended to be as outraged as Ron, but inside, he thought it rather a good idea.

* * *

Severus scanned the boy's Firebolt with every spell he could think of. The Nimbus lay untouched in the corner, given Severus had sent it himself. An anonymous Christmas gift, the best his professor's salary could afford and all he could give the boy. Even that much had been a risk, but Severus hadn't been able to resist. 

Of course, he might have anticipated Black would show him up. Bloody braggart, always flashing his wealth about. Did he honestly believe it a trait worth boasting for? Being born into money said nothing of one's character. Severus' wealth, negligible as it was, had come of nothing but the sweat of his own labour and frugality. 

This broom—Merlin. Severus knew, deep down, it couldn't be trusted, and yet, he couldn't find a single flaw. Still, he refused to give up. There had to be _some_ kind of trick here. Severus would find it, too. 

Black was good at hiding his trail, but Severus was better.

* * *

Harry couldn't sleep. Everything he had learned over the past few months jangled in his brain and demanded sorting. He dragged his tired body to the shower and let the hot water ease the stiffness of his achy muscles and muddled mind. After a moment, clarity returned to his thoughts, and he started the difficult task of ordering them.

Black was a bully who had attacked Snape several times and nearly killed him at least once. His father had been Black's best mate and played along with his schemes. Snape, again, had been a favoured victim, and Dumbledore had done nothing to help him. 

Those reports of bullying Harry had seen in Black's records—had Snape suffered for all of them? Harry knew from his experiences with Dudley bullies often had preferred targets, and those unfortunate souls bore the brunt of their cruelty. Had Harry's father and godfather been Snape's Piers and Dudley? No, they must have been _worse_ if Black had attempted to kill Snape. Merlin.

How could Dumbledore let such cruelty go unchecked and close his eyes to a student's pain? Even if Snape had been as rude and snarky then as he was now, he didn't deserve that. 

Then again, the headmaster hadn't done anything to stop Draco Malfoy from bullying Harry. He hadn't cared when the entire school believed Harry the heir of Slytherin. He hadn't cared when a vicious dog attacked Snape either. Why should Harry suppose things had been any different twenty years ago?

God. He thumped his head against the shower wall and sighed. So Dumbledore _wasn't_ just a kind old man with sweets to share, and Snape was more than a disaffected bastard. It didn't excuse Snape's behaviour, but maybe his role as a spy did.

Dumbledore, however, had no reason to act the way he had done.

Harry rinsed the leather from his hair and resolved to speak to Lupin about it in the next patronus lesson. Surely he must have seen something. Especially since Lupin had been his father's friend, too.

Hm. That raised some questions about Lupin. If he had known about Snape and said nothing to Harry's dad, what did that say about him?

Well. Harry definitely had questions for his defence professor now, though he would have to be careful how he approached them, for Snape's sake. 

Snape. The man had lots of different sides, didn't he? The hard-edged professor who snapped at everyone, a bullied young student with nowhere to turn, a man who had lost his only friend, and a man who gave Harry secret warnings and cultivated rare plants to help ease the pain of his nightmares. Human and spy, and Harry found he liked, or at least respected, both sides.

His human side though, maybe that man deserved a proper name, not just a surname, even if Harry would never be able to say it aloud. A name like Severus, maybe. Yes, that would do. It would remind him that Severus was a human being as much as a spy and deserved at least one person to care about him.

Ironic as it was, Harry had the sobering feeling that he might be the only one who did.

He rinsed the rest of himself and grabbed the towel the house elves had already hung outside the stall for him. It wasn't fair that he had to keep all these revelations quiet, but Severus' life was in danger. Until Harry could speak to him safely—and until Snape was willing to be Severus around Harry, even in private—Harry would have to keep his true thoughts about the man as secret as possible. Maybe, for Severus' sake, it was best to keep thinking of him as Snape, for now.

Just as Harry finished tugging on his pyjama bottoms, a sharp scream sounded in the dorm. What the hell? Harry grabbed his wand from the counter and ran back into the dorm, protective spells at the ready. Ron sat up in bed, face stark white and eyes wide. His curtains hung in tatters like the fat lady's portrait, and a red stain marked one shoulder. 

"Ron!" Harry dashed to his friend and gasped at the gaping wound visible beneath his pyjama top. "Bloody hell! What happened?" Though Harry had the sinking feeling he already knew.

"B-B-Black," Ron gasped out. "He was here. Hovering over me. He s-stabbed me. And I screamed. And—" He broke down, terrified, and Harry dragged him into a hug.

"Shh, it's all right now. Come on. I'll get you to the Infirmary."

Ron sniffled and let Harry haul him to his feet. "T-thanks, mate. I-I'm glad you're okay."

Dean padded over, Seamus and Neville pressed in close. "We'll help protect you both, all right? That nutter won't get by all of us."

"Damn right, he won't," said Seamus. "I'll set his bollocks on fire."

Neville grimaced and squeezed his legs together. "Merlin, Seamus. Did you have to go _right for_ the bollocks?"

"'Course I did. The nutter deserves worse."

Neville straightened. "Right. Then you hit him in the bits, and Dean and I will go for the eyes and the feet. Fair?"

"Sounds like a plan, mate," said Dean. "Arsehole won't make it a step closer if he dares show his face here again."

Harry gave them all a grateful smile. "Thanks. All of you." He eased Ron's good arm over his shoulders and braced his friend's waist. "All right. Come on, Ron."

"Y-yeah."

Harry half-carried his friend to the common room floo, one arm around Ron's waist and the other hand holding his wand in a death grip. The other students filtered in, some already alert and on guard, and Harry used the safety their presence offered to alert their head of house.

"Professor McGonagall's quarters, Hogwarts!" Harry cried into the tartan-covered office, "Professor, please, there's been—"

McGonagall appeared in the common room just then, hair in a messy bun and tartan slippers on her feet. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Oh, thank Merlin." Harry stood and guided his shaking friend to his feet. "Professor, there's been another attack. Sirius Black—Ron's been hurt, badly."

"Sweet Circe!" McGonagall swept to their side, and, with Ron safely taken care of, Harry buried his head in a shell-shocked Hermione's shoulder. "I-I was in the shower. That's why he went for Ron. B-because he couldn't find _me_."

Hermione hugged him tight and buried a quiet sob in his hair. "Oh god, oh my god. I almost lost you both."

Harry held her hand and went with Ron to the Infirmary, because after tonight, there was no way in hell he would leave him alone again.

* * *

"How the _hell_ did he get past my wards _again_?"

Severus paced the wardline, desperate to find his mistake. Ronald Weasley had damn near perished for Severus' failures, and he didn't want to think what would have happened to Harry had he been in bed at the time of the attack. The boy's tendency towards insomnia had saved him, but the next time, he might not be so lucky. Severus _had_ to find the weakness in his protections before everything he had fought for so long vanished in the night. 

With a shaky sigh, he jerked his hand across his eyes and slashed his wrist open again. Perhaps another layer of blood wards would be enough.

He had no other answers.

_'Please, let it be enough.'_

* * *

McGonagall handed Harry both of his brooms a few days before the match against Ravenclaw. A pale, weary Snape stood a little ways behind her, sneering for all he was worth despite the return of his illness, whatever it was. 

"Here you are, Potter," said McGonagall. "We have tested these for every curse, jinx, and hex known to man, and we can find nothing. It seems you have a very good friend out there."

"Or a very rich, very skilled enemy," Snape muttered.

"Severus."

Harry took the brooms with a smile, though he kept one eye on Snape. "Er, thank you, ma'am. I had better hurry and practise then."

"Do you truly think that wise, boy, given the number of attacks upon you and yours in the past few months?" Snape said it in a cold tone, but Harry didn't miss the clear warning.

"Severus, enough." McGonagall gave Harry a slight smile. "I think we can arrange for Madam Hooch to oversee a practise session or two, yes? Do try not to run into further trouble between now and then, Potter."

"Er, yes, ma'am. The practise time?"

"Let me speak to Madam Hooch and arrange it. I will send you a note later."

Harry nodded. "Thank you."

"Not at all. Good luck, Mister Potter."

Snape scoffed. "Luck! His _benefactor_ sent him the most expensive broom in existence. Make no mistake, it won't be skill that leads Gryffindor to victory tomorrow, assuming Potter can avoid catastrophe for more than two seconds together, that is."

Harry heard the subtext this time, too. _'Black sent the Firebolt. Don't use it.'_ Still, for the sake of the man under the mask, he scowled and shot him a dark look.

"Yeah? Well, I guess you'll feel a bit funny about that when I use my Nimbus and still beat the pants off Ravenclaw, _sir_."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for impertinence." But the flash of relief in Snape's eyes belied his words.

Harry shrugged. "It's just the truth, sir."

"Five more—"

"Enough, Severus." McGonagall gave Harry a stern look. "And you, young man, off with you, before your escort leaves you behind." 

Harry pretended to be put out but hurried to rejoin his classmates on the way to the greenhouses in spite of his apparent irritation.

"You got them back, mate?" Ron, one arm still wrapped in a sling, all but salivated at the sight of the Firebolt.

"Yes."

Ron glared at Hermione. "So there was no need to report it, then?"

Hermione cringed. "Well, it _might_ have been hexed, and—"

"Actually," Harry interrupted, "Hermione was right, from all I can tell. They didn't say much, but I gather they think Black sent this for sure, and I don't trust it."

Ron looked as though Harry had announced Christmas was cancelled. "But a _Firebolt_ , mate."

Harry rested his hand lightly on Ron's uninjured shoulder. "Is it worth our lives?"

Ron paled and let his head drop. "No. No, you're right." He looked up a moment later, expression thoughtful. "Maybe you could send it back to the company, though, Harry. Tell them you suspect it's been tampered with and would like a replacement. It might not work, but I reckon you're no worse off if it doesn't, since you can't fly it safely anyway."

Harry cocked his head. "That's actually a good idea. Thanks, mate."

"Always with the tone of surprise. I'm not an idiot, you know."

"Yeah, yeah." Harry nudged Ron's side. "Ease up on 'Mione, though. She was just trying to keep us safe."

Hermione gave him a weary smile. "Thank you, Harry."

Ron scowled. "It's not just about the broom with her, Harry—it's that mad cat! He's always after Scabbers, and now he's dead! If she had just—"

Hermione interjected, "And what am I supposed to do, Ron? He's a _cat_. I'm sorry about Scabbers, but it's mean to blame it on—"

"It's meaner to let your animals eat people's pets!"

Harry sighed at the next round of their constant bickering. Honestly, he didn't know whose side to take. They both loved their pets, but really, enough was enough. 

With a shake of his head, he made his way to the greenhouses and hoped his friends would take their heads out of their arses soon.

* * *

Snape boxed Harry's ears for being caught in Hogsmeade the second time, and Harry couldn't deny he deserved it. He had been an utter idiot to run off from his friends and break his cover just to fling mud at Malfoy. It was just that he hadn't been able to stand them attacking Ron for the same kind of things Dudley used against him. Then he had thought of Snape and the hints the man had thrown both in his argument with the headmaster and in his warning just before Halloween, and all Harry's good sense had flown out the window. 

He had been an idiot, and he deserved his detentions, but what kept sticking in his mind were _Lupin's_ words. The man had 'rescued' Harry from Snape only to lecture him and confiscate the map, which Harry couldn't deny was well-deserved, but….

How the hell had Lupin known it was a map in the first place?

_"Do you know them?"_

_"We've met."_

Lupin knew the makers—the makers that had charmed the parchment to insult Snape. What's more, he had done more than _met_ them based on that sarcastic answer. 

Hm. A map that laid out all of Hogwarts and insulted Snape? Maybe Harry _did_ know where it had come from after all—and that, again, brought Lupin's culpability into question.

Maybe now was a good time to talk to the man about it. The full moon was the night after next anyway, and Harry never had asked Lupin about protective spells. That was as good an excuse as any.

Harry knocked on Lupin's door and went inside at his greeting. Lupin had just poured himself a cup of tea judging by the steaming teapot and cup sitting on his desk, but he put them aside to greet Harry with a smile. "What can I do for—oh, Harry." His mouth set in a stern line. "I haven't changed my mind about the map, young man."

Harry shrugged. "I'm not here about the map, sir. I agreed with you that I was stupid to use it the way I did, if you recall. I'm here about Black."

Lupin's face, already haggard and worn, lost much of its colour. He gave Harry a shaky smile. "Black? What about him?"

Harry kept his expression neutral, though Lupin's shifty behaviour had already sparked his suspicion. "Did you know him?"

Lupin ran his hand through his hair. "We—we've met."

That excuse again? "Oh. How did you meet him, sir?"

Lupin hesitated. "I—we were classmates."

"Like Snape."

"Professor Snape."

"He wasn't a professor then. You were classmates too, sir?"

Lupin definitely blanched this time. "I can't see what this has to do with anything, Harry."

Harry's patience frayed. If Lupin was determined to play hard to get….

"Snape said Black tried to murder him. He said my dad and Black bullied him, too. Is it true?" 

Then Harry could play this hard, too. 

Lupin grimaced. "Harry, what you have to understand is that Severus is… very good at holding grudges, and—"

"I reckon I'd hold a grudge against a bloke who tried to do me in, too. Is it true, sir?"

Lupin sighed. "Black… sent Severus after a—a dangerous beast. Had your father not heard of Black's plans and stopped Severus in time…."

"A dangerous beast? What kind of beast?"

Lupin's jaw worked. "That's not really important. I—"

"Sir, it's important to me. Especially if Black wants to kill me and is attacking my friends, don't you think I should know what he's capable of?"

Lupin sighed and slumped into his chair. "I suppose that's a fair point. Very well. It was a werewolf."

Harry's breath hitched. The essay—that was why Snape had assigned it. It wasn't a general warning against the dangers of werewolves; he was trying to warn them of a known werewolf _on the grounds_.

The highlights of Harry's essay rushed back at lightning speed. Scared of the full moon, sick the day before and after, lethally allergic to silver….

Harry's eyes darted to the tea service on Lupin's desk. The spoon upon his saucer was _golden_.

"A werewolf. S-so Black really is a piece of work." Harry glared at the professor. "And I really don't understand how you could let it slide."

"Harry! That's unfair. I—"

"You were my dad's friend, too. You knew they were bullying people. Snape, it sounds like, got the worst of it. So, yeah, I don't understand how you could just let that go." He gave Lupin a sharp look. "But then again, maybe you have secrets of your own. Moony. Sounds like a good name for a werewolf, yeah? Or _Remus_ —he was raised by wolves, wasn't he?" 

Lupin stood. "That's enough, Harry. I will not endure such baseless—"

"It's not actually baseless though. You're afraid of the moon, and you've been ill once a month since school started. Not to mention the scars all over your face." Harry gave him a cold grin. "I guess I should be prepared to have a double period with Professor Snape this Friday, shouldn't I?"

"I… damn." Lupin sank back into his seat with a wary look. "How?"

"The essay Snape set when you were absent. To be fair, I didn't put the signs together until just now though. I reckon Hermione's probably known since the week after he set it."

"She is rather brilliant." Lupin sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You want the truth, Harry? I dearly regret the way I handled that situation, and I have all of my life. My refusal to intervene cost me every last one of my dearest friends. I have spent years trying to make amends, but Severus will not hear my apologies, will not consider that I was alone in the world but for James and—"

"I'm sorry, did you say you were alone? Did you not have my father and Black to protect you? Pettigrew too, I imagine. And my mum. Who did Snape have? When they cornered him, when they hurt him, who came to his defense?"

Lupin opened his mouth and closed it again. "I find it odd to hear you defending Severus when he has been so cruel to you."

"Yeah, Snape says a lot of awful rubbish, and I hate the old sod—" Merlin, Harry didn't. He hadn't for a while. "—But he's also saved my life more than once. Besides, I know how it feels to be cornered by three bigger bullies and have no one to protect you. So, in his shoes, I reckon I wouldn't be too keen to make up either."

Lupin leaned on the table and rubbed his forehead. "I see."

Harry tucked his arms around his chest. "Are we in danger every full moon?"

"No. Severus brews Wolfsbane for me for the week leading up to the full moon, and that renders me sane and docile. It—it's quite fortunate he's available to help, as there are few masters skilled enough to brew it, and it must be drunk immediately after brewing to be effective."

Harry's respect for Severus went up another hundred notches upon hearing that.

"Right. So you stood by for four years while your friends beat up the lonely Slytherin kid, then you nearly killed him, then let your friends beat him up some more, and now he has to take time out of his busy schedule to brew a highly complex potion for you for a quarter of the month, and you're upset he won't accept your apology?"

Lupin grimaced. "When you put it like that…."

"It's the blunt truth, Professor. Nothing more."

Lupin nodded wearily. "Fair enough. What, exactly, do you want from me, Harry?"

"Want?"

"In exchange for keeping my secrets."

Harry reeled back a step. "In exchange—what the _hell_?"

"Language, Harry."

"That rather deserves a swear or three. I didn't come here for anything other than to ask you about Black and for ways to protect against werewolves, but as _you're_ the werewolf and Snape's already got us covered, I don't need anything. Not from you."

"Harry, I—"

Disgust dripped from Harry's tone. "You know what? Keep that blasted map. I'll work out how to make my own. I'd rather not stain my hands with the blood you and your _friends_ left on it."

He made to storm out but stopped at the door. "You want to know what I want? No exchange, just you growing some spine and acting like a decent person for once, _sir_. Tell Dumbledore how Black is getting into the castle before he hurts anyone else. Goodnight, professor."

Harry stepped out and slammed the door behind him, seething at the utter cowardice of that pathetic lump. Some werewolf!

* * *

Harry received a new Firebolt in March, just in time for the quidditch match against Slytherin. Both Oliver Wood and Ron thought him mad to give it straight to McGonagall and ask that she have it checked again, just in case, but Harry liked his new Nimbus, and he would prefer to live through the end of the match either way.

McGonagall took the broom with her handkerchief against her palm, and Harry was doubly glad he had thought to use a spare bit of parchment as a barrier between his skin and the wood. "Did the company say whether they found anything wrong with the first Firebolt, Mister Potter?"

"Er, well, they did send a letter, ma'am, and they said they found a charm keyed to my blood and magic, but they couldn't tell whether it was beneficial or harmful. Either way, though, the broom was compromised, so they sent a new one."

McGonagall investigated the note Harry showed her with a frown. "I see. And you didn't identify yourself in the letter?"

"No, ma'am, too risky, but they might have been able to work out who I am anyway. They didn't mention my name, but they identified it was the owner's blood and magic, so it's a strong possibility they know despite my precautions."

McGonagall nodded and took both the note and the broom. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Mister Potter. We will investigate the broom thoroughly and return it to you as soon as we are certain it is safe. And ten points to Gryffindor for your wisdom in handling the situation with propriety. Well done."

She patted his shoulder, and Harry bid her farewell with a smile.

"I still say you're barmy, mate," Ron grumbled as Harry returned to his breakfast.

"Barmy, but alive."

Ron grimaced. "Fair enough."

* * *

Thorough testing of Harry's broom revealed no curses or harmful spells at all. The only additional charm Severus was able to uncover was a customised ward to prevent tampering. The company had further warded it against blood magic or the identification of any magical core beyond simple ownership.

Satisfied, Severus returned the boy's broom to him before the end of term exams. "Do try not to break your neck, Potter. There is little that intrigues me less than the idea of being forced to scrape your sainted remains off of the nearest flat surface."

Harry scowled and took his broom. "Wouldn't dream of giving you the pleasure, _sir_."

"Ten points from Gryffindor. Watch your tongue, boy."

"Yes, sir." Harry huffed and walked away, but Severus swore he saw a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. 

_'Have fun, child. I will watch over you.'_

He made sure he had 'plans' to gather ingredients near the pitch that evening. And if he hid under the stands long enough to watch Harry swoop and soar, if he smiled at the look of utter joy on the boy's features, well, no one was about to notice. 

* * *

Severus stared at his living room walls with fierce concentration. He had searched his student memories of Black through to the last months of seventh year. These were his last memories of the man before Azkaban, his last hope of finding a clue as to how the bastard was hiding himself.

As Severus had focused his legilimency on memories of the Marauders, not every scene had anything to do with Black. This one fell into that category, and yet, he knew he was missing something. The sense of anticipation in the air was almost tangible, and whether it came from a psychosomatic reaction to the hope of finding an answer, a reverberation in his magic closing in on its quarry, or something even more esoteric, he knew _this_ was the memory he needed.

About damn time.

The scene showed Potter and Lily walking hand-in-hand beside Lupin. Pettigrew trailed behind, bouncing about in excitement over something, the poor fool. Severus' younger incarnation walked past, glanced at Lily and James' joined hands, and scowled to hide the pain in his eyes. Lily didn't look back.

The adult Severus took a shuddering breath. Lily—nothing had been the same after fourth year. Her eyes had begun trailing to Potter that Christmas, when he offered her a pink tulip won from a Christmas cracker. After that moment, her eyes had hardly ever left his form. The change in her preferences had come about so suddenly and effected such a drastic alteration in her behaviour, Severus had secretly tested her for love potions. 

Seeing the solution with a bit of hair snatched from her jumper turn clear had been the most devastating moment of his young life, at least until Black tried to murder him and Lily hadn't believed his story. 

He shook off his distraction and lifted his wand to switch to the next memory. Whatever thrill he felt before must have been false, as there was no hint of Black anywhere.

Then, the sudden arrival of a black, furry beast stopped him cold. That was the dog! It even had the strange marking on its hip. How was it _possible_ the beast was still alive after twenty years? Unless it was the mutt's pup trying to tear Severus limb from limb. 

Or it wasn't a dog at all.

He watched the mutt butt Potter's hip and run circles around Pettigrew, tongue lolling in the breeze and not a hint of threat in his posture, and he knew. 

That was no _dog_.

Severus replaced his memories and ran to the floo. This was one fact Albus couldn't ignore.

"Albus! Albus, I know how Black is sneaking about unnoticed."

Albus looked up from his desk. "Do you? Come through then."

Severus nodded and stepped through the hearth. "I have been scanning my memories for a hint, and I have just seen the evidence for myself. The same dog that attacked me played with Potter and Pettigrew during my school years. The dog is _Black_. He is an unregistered animagus!"

Albus rubbed his beard. "I see. And your evidence is based upon a twenty-year old memory and two brief encounters with a vicious dog, both of which occurred after sundown?"

Severus' eyelid twitched. "You _know_ I am trained to notice details in an instant, Albus. You _know_ I am experienced in reproducing accurate, detailed representations of the facts contained within my mind, and you _know_ skilled legilimency corrects the natural errors of degradation on human memories."

Albus stood and gave him a fatherly smile edged with sorrow. "Of course. You are a brilliant spy and an uncommonly skilled legilimens. However, you are also rather shortsighted where Sirius Black is concerned, so I—"

" _Shortsighted_? The man tried to kill me, Albus! _Twice_! And then there was the lake incident. Surely you haven't forgotten that the bast—"

"I remember your accusations quite well, Severus, as you remind me of them every time his name is mentioned."

Severus cried, "Perhaps if you weren't so blind to the fact that Gryffindors can be quite as monstrous as any other house, there wouldn't be a need to remind you of your failure to control them!" 

"Severus, calm yourself."

"Calm myself? _Calm myself_? When there is a murderer and a werewolf roaming the grounds and _no one knows_?"

"Severus, you must admit you are rather biased against—"

Severus screamed, "Against my attempted murderer, abuser, and sexual assailant? Oh yes, how terrible of me to think so badly of such an _upstanding citizen_!"

Albus pinched the bridge of his nose. "I will investigate the possibility. That is all I can do."

"All you can—tell me, Albus. What is the point of keeping me on as your spy if you do not heed my intelligence? Perhaps, in the end, all you truly wanted was a servant to suffer for your cause and feed you the dark lord's plans." Severus' face twisted in an ugly sneer. "Slytherins are good enough for that, yes?"

Albus frowned. "That is unfair, Severus."

"Is it, Albus? Is it really?" Severus made a sound of utter disgust and stormed out of the office.

Fine. If Albus was determined to deny the facts, Severus would track and capture Black himself. All that stealth training had to be good for something.

A small, grey form darted down the headmaster's stairs, and Severus leapt back to avoid it. 

"Bloody castle rats."

With a shudder of disgust, he straightened his robes, smoothed his hair, and stalked away. He had Wolfsbane to brew before sundown and a date with a certain ill-fated hippogriff immediately after, but once he had finished with their resident death-row 'criminal' and their slavering beast professor, he would deal with the other deranged mutt roaming the lands.

* * *

It didn't surprise Harry that, when the time came for Buckbeak's trial, Black still hadn't been caught. Lupin hadn't done a thing to stop Black's madness as a student—why would he change the habit of a lifetime now? Finding Scabbers alive and… sort of well in the milk jug, however, had come as quite the shock. 

Now, they stood on the hilltop under his invisibility cloak, awaiting Buckbeak's final fate. From his hidden spot, Harry felt safe enough to peek out of its folds.

There! As he had half-expected, half-hoped to see, a black-clothed figure crept through the red light of sundown, heading for Hagrid's pumpkin patch. 

Oh, thank Merlin. Harry had had the feeling Snape meant to save the hippogriff. Seeing confirmation—and undeniable proof of Severus' kind heart, however deeply he buried it—set Harry's knees wobbling with relief. Severus _did_ care. 

"I-I can't watch." Hermione turned, sniffles punctuating her voice, and Ron hugged her. 

"Y-yeah. I've got you."

Harry squeezed her shoulder. "I'll keep an eye out, just to be safe. Take care of her, Ron."

"Thanks, mate."

Ron's back turned, too, and Harry fixed his eyes on the hut. He heard the executioners and crew go inside—to sign something, they said. He struggled against a surge of anticipation. This was it. This was Snape's opportunity to act. 

There was silence for a moment, then, a flash of silver shot over the hut with a black figure atop its back. Bloody hell. Snape was _riding_ Buckbeak to freedom. Talk about an exit in style. 

In an instant, the shimmer of a disillusionment charm flickered over hippogriff and rider, and then they were gone.

_'Brilliant rescue, sir.'_

He watched the horizon for a moment, searching for any sign of the hippogriff and his secret protector. He tracked an occasional shimmer to the forest, but found no other hint of their presence. Good.

A frustrated shout and a sudden _thunk_ of an axe cut the air, and Harry jumped.

"Oh god, they did it!" Hermione choked out around tears. "I-I can't believe they did it!"

"Merlin," Ron breathed. "I was hoping…."

"I know."

Harry opened his mouth to reassure them, though he wasn't sure what he could say safely, but a sudden yelp from Ron cut his words short.

"He bit me!" 

Harry turned in confusion. "What?"

"Scabbers! He bit—ow, stop that, you barmy rat!" With a squeal, a grey streak shot down Ron's leg and darted for the forest.

"Oi! Get back here!" 

Ron ran off after Scabbers, ignoring Harry's and Hermione's warnings not to run off alone, and Harry found himself half hoping Crookshanks found the little beast and did it properly this time. That mad rat was past his prime, for certain, and he had caused more than enough chaos for one woebegone rodent.

* * *

No, Harry _definitely_ wished that blasted cat had finished the job now. Ron had caught Scabbers, somehow, but now that mangy mutt had bitten his friend's leg a few yards from the Whomping Willow and dragged him towards the tree's vicious branches, and he couldn't escape the dog's grip. 

"Ron!"

The branches went still with no explanation, and the dog dragged Ron towards a hole at its base.

"What the—what just happened?" 

Hermione dragged him forwards. "No time!"

"Right!"

Harry dashed full speed after them, Hermione in tow. " _Impedimenta_!" Merlin, he had to hurry. " _Tarantallegra_!" That vicious beast could easily mangle his friend, too—or worse. " _Dolorpeda_!" He hadn't forgotten what that beast had done to Severus. " _Impedi_ —damn!"

The dog vanished into the hole. and Harry couldn't reach him, but Ron was still hooked around a tree root, fighting desperately against his fate.

"Ron! Hold on, mate! We're—"

A terrible crack whipped across Harry's ears, then a scream, and Ron's leg went limp and vanished down the hole.

" _Ron_! No!" 

" _Ron_!" Hermione shrieked and ran towards the willow, but the instant she approached, the branches dropped and careened towards her. He jerked her out of the way just in time.

"Aah!" Hermione scrambled back and grabbed Harry's hand. "Oh, god! H-Harry, what do we do? It's got Ron!"

"I-I know. I—there _has_ to be a way through these branches!"

Hermione searched frantically. "I-I don't see anything. I can't—oh, Ron!" She broke down, and Harry patted her back and struggled to think of a way, _any_ way, into the trunk. There had to be _some_ kind of secret. The dog had done it, after all.

"Damn! What do we—oh!"

An orange puffball rushed out of nowhere and wove between the pummeling branches. Crookshanks climbed the trunk and pressed his paw to a peculiar knot a little ways off the ground, and the branches stilled. 

"Merlin."

So the knot was a trigger, but there was no way the dog had pressed it alone. Crookshanks hadn't helped either, and Ron and Scabbers had been out of their heads with fear.

There was another accomplice on the grounds then, somewhere. A _wizarding_ accomplice.

A wizard like Black, maybe.

"Shit!" Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her towards the trunk. "Come on, now! Ron's not the only one in trouble!"

Hermione followed without questioning him, though Harry wondered if she had even heard, given the severity of her distress. He raced to the base of the tree, where an aged, moth-eaten tunnel lay hidden between the roots, its trap-door ceiling thrown wide. Harry leapt inside and beckoned Hermione, who tumbled in with a squeak. 

"W-where are we?" 

Harry shook his head and dragged her on. "Later. That dog is bad news. _Lumos_!"

Hermione nodded and tore down the tunnel after Harry, wand lighting the way.

* * *

Severus had just sent Buckbeak off into the twilight when the shout of a teenager, immature voice cracking in terror, reverberated through the trees. 

" _Ron_! No!"

"Harry?" 

Severus' gut plummeted. Oh no. Black must have known, somehow, he had been distracted. He had, like a fool, left Harry and his friends vulnerable. He placed his wand in his invisible palm. 

"Point me Potter!"

The wand zipped around to face the Whomping Willow, aided by Severus' fear-amplified core. 

"Shit!" He grabbed his wand again and shot into the air, flying with as much speed as Buckbeak. He landed just outside the range of the willow's oddly-quiescent branches and whipped his head around in search of his quarry. He had just opened his mouth to call out when he spotted Lupin's head dropping into that blasted tunnel. So the man at least had some sense, but… wait. What was _that_?

A fold of silvery fabric lay at the base of the willow. An invisibility cloak.

Oh dear god. Harry was in that tunnel, Harry, and probably his twin shadows, and they had a werewolf on their tail. On the full moon. On the _one night of the year_ Severus hadn't been able to stand over Lupin and force him to take his potion before its efficacy faded.

"Merlin, no!" 

Severus levitated a stone, pressed it into the knot, and grabbed the cloak on his way down the tunnel. Any advantage he could gather might just save lives.

* * *

Harry listened to Black and Lupin's story with narrowed eyes. So Pettigrew was Scabbers, hm? Which meant the bloody menace could have murdered Ron at any time—or let Black into the castle—and Lupin had sat on his laurels and _watched_. For weeks. 

"Let me see if I have this straight," said Harry in icy tones, "you, my father, and Pettigrew are Animagi, Black."

"Call me Sirius, Harry. I _am_ your—" 

But Harry charged over him. "You're animagi. And you learned so you could run the grounds with a _werewolf_ , in a school full of young children, just so Moony wouldn't be bored, do I have that right so far?"

Black coughed. "Well, it was a—a bit of solidarity, you understand, and—"

"Yes, solidarity with a lethal beast that would have torn any human you came in contact with limb from limb without a check."

Black flushed. "Well, Prongs and I were big enough to—"

"To _what_? Come between a werewolf and its meal? You're even madder than I thought."

"Harry, it was just to stand by a friend. Nothing ever happened, honest."

"Except, of course, for the time you sent Snape down this tunnel on the full moon. Had my dad not grown a conscience and stopped him, your precious Moony and Snape would've both been dead before they took their OWLs."

Hermione gasped and gaped at Harry. Ron looked at him as though he had grown a tail made of devil's snare. 

Black choked out, "H-Harry, Merlin! I don't know where you heard that, but—"

Harry fixed his wand upon Lupin. "Why don't you tell him where I heard it, Professor? Or do you even have the bollocks to admit that much?"

"Harry," Hermione gasped, voice shaky.

"Well?" Harry flicked his wand a little. "Will I have to hex it out of you?"

"Moony?" Black frowned. "What did you tell them?"

"N-nothing he didn't know already. I…." Lupin rubbed the back of his neck. "Harry, you need to understand that we were just boys then and—"

"Well, I'm a boy now, sir, even younger than you lot were, and I'm decent enough to know better than to send Draco Malfoy down this tunnel on the full moon, now aren't I?"

"I, well—"

"Besides, you're grown men now and still up to the same tricks." He jerked his wand towards Black. " _You_ tried to murder Snape with no provocation this fall."

Black crowed, "No provocation! Snivellus is a ruddy Death Eater! That was plenty of pr—"

"Prove it," Harry snapped. 

Black cut off his rant with a strangled, "Huh?"

"I said _prove it_. Prove Snape is a Death Eater. Because, while you were busy stabbing my best friend and breaking his bones, terrorizing the fat lady, and trying to murder people for no good reason, Snape has been busy keeping _this_ idiot from murdering us all. Oh, and he's saved my life any number of times, which is a good deal more than I can say for either of you."

Lupin coughed. "Well, Harry, Sirius has, undoubtedly, been very foolish—"

Black snapped, "Oi! That's not on, Moony!"

Lupin continued over him, "—But you must understand there's been bad blood between them for—"

"When did Snape try to murder you without cause?" Harry levelled his wand on Lupin. "From all I gather, he's sacrificed a lot to keep your miserable hide in one piece, too."

Lupin sighed. "Well, yes, but we were fifteen and—"

"Oh, don't try to act like you're any better than Black. You _knew_ Black was an animagus. You _knew_ Pettigrew was an animagus, and yet you never told anyone. And, what's more, you sat on that blasted map for _weeks_ before you took any action. What was it that dragged you out of your cushy little office, sir? Seeing Pettigrew racing towards the school unchecked, or seeing Black drag Ron away and _break his bloody leg_ while you twiddled your thumbs?" 

Harry gasped and reeled back. "Wait a tick, it was _you_! You pressed down the knot so Black could come down here! And _let it go_ so we _couldn't_!"

Hermione squeaked and covered her mouth with her hands, wide eyes fixed on Lupin. "Oh my god, it would have _had_ to be you! You were here right after us, and—"

Lupin waved his hands as if he could stop them working out the truth of him by force of will. "I-I thought—easier to capture—Harry, I was trying to _help_!"

Harry scoffed in disgust. "I don't bloody _believe_ you."

Snape's voice snapped out, "Neither do I." He appeared in a flash of silver and let Harry's cloak fall from his shoulders. "Thank you for the use of this, Potter. It came in quite handy. And ten points from Gryffindor for disrespecting a… _professor._ " He glared at Lupin and Black with utter loathing. "Not that this cowardly wretch will be one for long when _this_ becomes public knowledge."

"You!" Black snarled at Snape. "What are you doing here, Snivellus?"

Snape's eyes narrowed to slits. "What, disappointed you didn't manage to kill me the first two or three times?" He levelled his wand at Black. "This time, I will have you! Your mad stories will do nothing to save you from the dementors—"

"Oh, take your beak out of my business, Snape. You'll have nothing. It's Peter who—"

"And you shall both have a merry time entertaining the dementors from now—"

Ron cried out and held a bloodied hand to his chest. "Harry! He's—"

Harry's seeker's eyes had already seen, and Snape was a half an instant behind him.

" _Petrificus Totalis_!"

Harry's spell and Snape's unknown, wordless jinx hit Pettigrew at the same time. The rat froze inches from the door and became a squat, bald, rodent-like man in slow motion. At the same instant his human body went rigid and dropped, Black cried out a stunning hex….

But it was Severus who slammed into the back wall and fell, insensible and bleeding, to the floor.

"You bloody _bastard_!"

À la Seamus, Harry hexed Black with a disarming jinx followed by a stinging hex straight to the bollocks. While the man was busy yelping and whinging about 'dirty sods hitting below the belt,' Harry rushed to Severus' aid and supported his head. 

"Merlin, he's hurt. _Again_."

Hermione cast " _Rennervate_ ," but Snape didn't come to. "Oh, no. He's unconscious, not just stunned."

"So we're stuck with _these_ clods," Harry grumbled. " _Lovely_."

Black staggered to his feet and pounced Pettigrew's rigid body. "Traitor! I spent twelve years in Azkaban because of you, and you're going to pay for it now!"

"Oh, _sit_ , mutt." Harry cast _Incarcerous_ on Black and kicked him to the floor. 

"Hey! Let me go! I didn't do anything!"

"Except assault a professor with intent to harm, twice. _Silencio_!" Black fumed silently and fought his bindings, but Harry kicked him around the head to keep him docile, for a minute or two at least.

"Oi, Lupin. Get your head out of the clouds. We've a mass murderer and an attempted one to see off to Azkaban, and two casualties to care for."

"Ah, right." Lupin shook himself and cast a reckless _Sano_ on Snape and a more careful _Ferula_ on Ron's injured leg. Well, useless as Lupin's spell had been for Severus, at least Harry had heard the incantation and could try it himself with actual effort behind it.

Lupin tried to bandage Ron's hand next, much to the young man's disgust. 

"Pettigrew might have murdered us all while you diddled yourself in the corner," Ron snapped, eyes sharp with fury. "Some Gryffindor _you_ are."

"Oh, they're all Gryffindors," said Harry. "Not that it matters. Still, take it from me that one can persuade the hat to consider a different house, if its first choice doesn't appeal."

Ron gave him a bemused look. "Harry?"

"Later." Harry bound Pettigrew in ropes and gave Lupin a cold look. "A spell to keep your old school chums from transforming would be a great idea right about now."

Lupin flinched. "Er, there aren't any. Not that I know of."

"Then some cages?"

"That might do." Lupin began weaving a conjured magical cage around Pettigrew.

"I said _both_ of your friends."

"O-one at a time."

" _Sure_. Hermione, make that tosser do his job while I see to Snape?"

"Done." Hermione stood with her back to Harry and her wand pointed at Lupin. "I may not be a defense professor, but I'm no pushover either."

The fact that _Hermione_ hadn't hesitated to pressure Lupin said everything of how low he had fallen in all three students' estimation.

Lupin winced and went on forming the cages, around Pettigrew _and_ Black this time. Bloody coward. 

Once he was sure Black was relatively subdued and Lupin was actually trying to capture him, Harry knelt beside Severus. 

_'I'm here.'_

He stroked the man's hair back from his face, careful to keep the motion hidden, and cast _Sano_ with all his strength. The light blinded him for a moment. Merlin! Since when did he have that kind of healing power? Maybe his secret devotion to Snape had something to do with it.

Snape groaned and grimaced. "W-what—ugh."

Harry whispered, "It's all right, sir. I—"

But a dismayed shriek from Hermione cut Harry's attempt at reassurance off. He whipped his head around and gasped. Gone! Both Black and Pettigrew were _gone_!

"What the hell?" 

Lupin stood over the half-finished cages, blinking stupidly in the wake of his escaped cronies. 

"Oh."

"Bloody _idiot_!" Harry considered running after them, but with two injured people to consider, he didn't dare. Lupin! Go!"

Lupin grimaced. "I can't catch them. Not tonight."

Harry's hair stood on end. "Oh no. It's the full moon. And Snape was…." He went ashen. "Oh _no_. Lupin. Did you take your potion?"

Lupin blanched and looked away.

" _Did you take your potion_?"

Snape grimaced. "Don't waste your breath, Potter. That is a _no_."

"Merlin help us. Hermione! Levitate Ron and float him out as fast as you can go! I've got Snape." 

Hermione squeaked. "Oh god! _Mobilicorpus_!" Ron yelped and flailed about, but Hermione gave him no time to adjust before she shoved his floating form unceremoniously down the tunnel. 

"Right." Harry snatched up his cloak, stuffed it haphazardly in his trouser pocket, and braced Snape's waist. "Up you get."

"I don't… need the aid of…."

"With all due respect, shut it, sir. We're about to have a werewolf breathing down our necks. This _really_ isn't the time."

Severus snarled, but Harry saw his fear. "Twenty points from—"

Harry dragged Severus into the tunnel and hauled him down the stairs. "Take the lot of them, but do it _after_ we're safe."

"Y-yes. Hurry, Potter."

"Yes, sir." Harry slammed the door shut and stepped back. " _Conserva_." It was only the most basic of wards, but it might give them a few extra seconds. "Can you run, sir?"

Severus staggered and swayed into the wall. "Unfortunately, not well enough to save your sorry hide." 

Harry offered his hand. "Can you trust me then?"

An unearthly roar sounded in the room beyond. Snape winced and cried a series of spells Harry had never heard of. 

"Hurry. I fear that will not hold him as long as our scent remains."

Harry nodded and swept Severus against him, bracing the man against his side. "Right. Hold on, sir." He raced down the tunnel as fast as he could go with Snape staggering at his side. "I've got you. It's all right."

Severus said nothing until the roars went quiet. Silence closed in around them, and the man sank against Harry's shoulder with a groan.

"Sir?"

"It's… a concussion. I am… rather ill."

Harry hesitated. "Do you reckon it's safe enough to try another round of healing?"

"I am not sure I will make it otherwise, not with threats on all sides."

Harry nodded and guided Severus to rest against the wall. "Right. Steady on, sir." He braced the man up against his shoulder and guided his wand over Severus' face. 

" _Sano_." The charm flooded the tunnel with white light, and Severus closed his eyes with a sigh.

"Your mother… was a natural healer."

Harry blinked. "Mum? You knew her?"

Pain flooded Snape's eyes. "We—we've met."

Harry glanced back towards the shack. "Oh."

So Harry's mum had been the friend Severus had lost long ago. Merlin.

Harry wanted to question him further, but Snape was in no condition, and they hadn't time anyway. Instead, he focused on his charmwork and let his devotion aid the power of his healing. 

"It's enough. I can walk now, with assistance."

Harry nodded. "I'll help. Lean on me, sir."

Severus rested against Harry's shoulder and allowed the boy to lead him from the tunnel. 

"Potter… what you said back there, what you did for me—you must never repeat what I am about to say to anyone; will you swear it?"

Harry nudged him a little closer. "I promise. Not even Ron or Hermione."

"Then—your defence of me was both utterly foolhardy and unnecessary, but… thank you."

Harry pulled up short and gave Severus a look edged with tears. "Oh god. Sir, I…." He forced himself to smile. "Y-you're welcome."

Severus looked away, but Harry caught the pain in his eyes. He couldn't risk too much honest emotion, not as a spy, and knowing that, this simple display of grudging thanks meant so much more. 

"Come, Potter. We cannot linger here."

Harry nodded and guided him down the tunnel, heart light and raw. Odd as it was, given the danger all around, he felt he could fly without his broom.

Crookshanks pressed the knot in for them, and Harry guided Severus up and into the moonlight. "Safe. Thank Merlin."

"Not yet."

Harry nodded and guided Severus on. The man let Harry help him out of range of the branches and towards the distant form of Hermione and Ron, just visible at the crest of the next slope, then pushed him back.

"I am able to support myself now, Potter. Cease manhandling me."

Harry released him, knowing Severus couldn't be seen depending on him in view of the mini-Death Eaters. "All right there, sir?"

"Do stop your hovering, boy. I am fine."

'Fine' was a stretch, judging by Snape's unsteady gait and pallor, but Harry didn't interfere. It would be worse for Severus if he did. 

"Excuse me for being concerned, _sir_. I—" 

Severus pressed his hand to Harry's shoulder and peered over the landscape, wand at the ready.

"Potter. Be quiet."

Harry swallowed hard and obeyed. Had 'Moony' escaped? Was Black or Pettigrew still on the grounds?

Then, he felt it. The sick, creeping cold through his veins, sticking to his skin like slime.

"Dementors," he whispered. His breath came out in a wispy rush of steam.

Severus said nothing. His grip on Harry's shoulder tightened to the point of pain.

"S-sir?"

"No…." Severus was wild-eyed and gasping. "No. No, I cannot."

"Merlin." Harry grabbed his hand. "Come on. Sir, we've got to r—" A shrill scream cut Harry off. "Hermione!"

He dragged a terrified Severus after him and dashed for the next hill. His friends lay in a heap, unconscious, and a throng of black-cloaked figures swarmed around them.

Oh _Merlin_ , no! 

"Sir, sir, please. I can't…."

Severus gasped, "Expect… Expecto…." With a strangled whimper, he fell unconscious. 

Harry stood guard over his body and aimed at the beasts. Up to him. No one left to save them, nowhere to run, no hope. 

_"Lily, take Harry and run!"_

There were too many. Too close. Too cold. Too weak. 

_"Not my baby! Not Harry!"_

Black shapes swooped upon Harry and Severus, and Harry tried to fight for their sake, but he was falling… falling…. 

" _Expecto_ — _Expecto_ _Patronum_! _E-Ex_ …."

He couldn't do it. He couldn't save them. He wasn't strong enough.

Then, grimy, skeletal hands grabbed Severus' chest and tipped his chin back, and Harry snapped out of his despair with a jolt. 

_'No!'_

Fire and fury and devotion surged within him and drove back the cold. 

"No! I won't let you!" 

He focused on the happiest feeling he could muster, that memory just now when Snape had leaned against his shoulder and murmured his thanks. When he had _trusted_ Harry. Why it made him so happy was beyond him, but he had quickly come to realise this man was his staunchest defender, his champion.

His hero.

And damned if he would let him die.

" _Expecto Patronum_!"

A huge silver being broke through the mist and bowled the dementors out of the way. The monsters hissed and vanished into the darkness, driven back to their exile by the argent beast. When the last had gone, it shook itself and galloped back to Harry, and he gasped at the sight of a shaggy mane and four huge paws. Merlin. Lupin had thought Harry's patronus would be a stag, like his father's.

This was no stag.

"Max. Your name is Max." Harry touched the lion's forehead and smiled as it rubbed his hand. "You showed up… just in time…."

The lion faded, and, with a groan, he fell into the darkness.

* * *

Harry woke in the Infirmary with Pomfrey fussing over her patients and grumbling about insane beasts and Dumbledore twinkling down at him. Ugh. He could have done without the old man. 

"Well, Harry, would you like to explain how Professor Snape came to find all three of you unconscious on the grounds, with obvious dementor-induced illness, yet no dementors near?"

Harry frowned. "Didn't he tell you?"

Dumbledore's twinkle vanished for an instant. "Professor Snape said much, but I fear he has been—"

"He hasn't. And you're an idiot to ignore him."

Pomfrey jerked up. " _Mister_ Potter!"

"It's true. Snape's a sod, but he's an honest one, and it's stupid to hire the man as an instructor, to say you trust him with our lives, then ignore him when he tells you something's wrong." Harry rubbed his forehead and grimaced. "Ow. Ow. Merlin."

Poppy's expression softened slightly. "Mister Potter, here. Do eat this first. Perhaps that will aid you in speaking civilly to everyone around you."

Harry nibbled on the chocolate and decided to use it as a cover. He really couldn't risk blowing a hole in Dumbledore's perception of him just yet. Still, he would have rather told his story to just about anyone but that manipulative old coot.

"T-thank you, ma'am. Er, sorry about that."

"No trouble, young man." Dumbledore patted Harry's hand, and Harry forced himself not to jerk away. "It _was_ rather silly of me to question you the instant you awoke after such a traumatic experience."

"Um, right."

"Do you think you are able to tell me what happened now?"

"I'll try, sir."

Harry gathered his scattered wits and cloaked his true opinion of the old man in a smokescreen of blind trust. He hated it, but needs must. It was too early in the game to show his hand, not unless he absolutely had to.

"Okay. So, this afternoon, we went down to Hagrid's to help him cope with Buckbeak's execution…."

* * *

Severus seethed as he staggered along the path to the shack—as far as he dared, anyway. Of _course_ Albus hadn't believed him. Of _course_ the old man had brushed off his warnings of Black and Pettigrew and Lupin as the fancy of a liar with a grudge. Never mind that Severus had never lied to him and the Marauders had been spineless monsters—their sins were, in the old man's eyes, all Severus' fault.

He shouldn't have expected anything different. It had always been that way, and it always would. Gryffindor loyalty, indeed.

Gryffindor loyalty—well, some of them were decent, he supposed. The memory of waking under Harry's insensate form rushed over him again, and Severus stilled, eyes stinging and chest aching.

He had thought he had failed them. He had thought they would all be destroyed due to his weaknesses. 

Dementors… Merlin, he hated them. Like Harry, he had had terrible difficulties fighting them off until he learned to protect himself. Until he found a reason to fight. Harry had been his shield, but in that moment, they were both in over their heads. With Severus already weakened by his injury and an entire throng of the beasts draining every hope he had ever dared to cherish, he hadn't lasted long.

His last thought as he succumbed had been of the love in Harry's eyes when Severus had risked his cover to thank him, and how it would never shine again.

But Harry had saved him. Somehow, a fourteen-year-old boy had driven off a horde of monsters most aurors quaked at and saved all of their lives. 

Severus sank against the wall and dragged his uninjured hand across his face, unsurprised to find it wet. It was his job to protect Harry. His job to defend the children, but he had let them all down.

Thank Merlin Harry was the hero he was, or they would all be empty shells now. 

Severus shuddered and vowed to overcome his weakness to those beasts. Never again would he let his pain overtake his senses. Harry trusted him. Harry _relied_ on him, and the other students needed him, too. 

Damned if he would fail them again.

"Forgive me, Harry. I swear I will do better by you from now on."

Even if the boy could never know it.

Severus occluded his grief away and continued his path down the tunnel. He shed his blood to protect Harry, his life, his power. And if Harry never knew how much he meant to the sardonic potions professor, at least Severus could rejoice in knowing his sacrifice would enable the boy to live another day.

That was all that mattered, in the end.

* * *

After Dumbledore left, looking haggard and chastened—and serve the arsehole right—Harry rested with his block of chocolate and watched over his friends. They hadn't woken yet, but after Pomfrey had heard his story, she had explained that their greater exposure and limited experience with dementor-induced illness would mean a longer recovery. She had, at least, assured him they were both still intact, only unconscious.

Thank _Merlin_.

Dumbledore had informed him, too, that he would see to it that proper action was taken concerning Black and Pettigrew, and he had promised to ensure the dementors were removed from the grounds. He hadn't mentioned Lupin, but Harry hadn't been up to calling him on it, not yet. He would give the man a day or two to do the right thing, and if he didn't, then the entire school would learn the truth of their defence professor, and Dumbledore could deal with the consequences of his inaction.

Hermione woke with a squeak. "Oh! Harry? Ron?"

"Hermione, thank Merlin." Harry let out a sigh. "We're okay. Ron's still out cold, but we're all safe. Snape is all right, too. Dumbledore said he's out warding the school against Black and Pettigrew, and good on him." He saw Pomfrey bustling over and added, "For once."

Hermione choked back tears. "Oh god. I-I thought we were—I thought…."

"'Mione?" Ron groaned. "Merlin, what happened? I feel like I've been hit by a lonny."

Harry couldn't help but stifle a giggle at that. "A _lorry_ , Ron." His mirth turned to sniffles fast. "And thank Merlin you're okay."

"Thank Merlin indeed." Madam Pomfrey broke off chunks of chocolate and handed it to both newly awakened patients. "Here you are, children. Eat all of it, and no complaints."

Ron took his with a grin. "Won't complain about being stuffed to my ears with chocolate, ma'am."

Pomfrey's lips twitched a little. "I imagine you might before it reached that point. Still, do hurry and eat it. All four of you had a very close call indeed."

"Four…?" Ron winced. "Snape. Did he…?"

"He's fine, mate." Harry snorted. "Well, nothing we can do about the need for a personality transplant, but he's alive and kicking anyway." Merlin, he wished he could tell them the truth, but it wasn't worth Severus' life.

"Oh." Ron nibbled his chocolate in silence for a moment. "I reckon I would've been disappointed about that before tonight, but…."

"Yeah. It's not the same anymore. He saved our lives from that mangy werewolf, and I saved his from the dementors."

Ron and Hermione dropped their chocolate onto the sheets.

"C-come again?" Ron gaped at him. "Harry, mate, you saved us?"

"Y-yeah. Had to." Harry shuddered and crossed his arms over his chest. "Snape was still too injured after Black attacked him. He tried to fight them, but he fainted before he could drive them off, and that meant either I learned the charm, _fast_ , or we all lost our souls."

"Dear gods," Ron breathed. "Mate…."

"I've never been more terrified in my life," Harry whispered. "There were _hundreds_ , and you were both unconscious. I didn't know if they had already—if I was too late, and—" His voice broke, and he rubbed his hand across his eyes. Pomfrey handed him another piece of chocolate and patted his shoulder. 

"There now, Mister Potter. You pulled through and saved them all, as you always manage to no matter the odds. It's all right now."

Harry shuddered. "It wasn't then. They all swooped down on me, and I stood over Snape to protect him, but I couldn't protect him. I tried, I tried to call my patronus, but there were so many, and I was so scared…."

Pomfrey dabbed at her eyes. "Oh, child." She squeezed Harry's hand. "You didn't tell the headmaster what gave you the strength to overcome them."

"I didn't think he'd believe me, ma'am." It was the truth. Dumbledore hadn't believed Severus, after all. "It—it was Snape, actually. One of the dementors grabbed him and started—there was a huge hole in its face for a mouth, and Snape's soul—"

"Blessed Merlin," Pomfrey breathed. "They tried to kiss Severus?"

"Y-yeah. And I kept thinking how he fought to save us even if he is mean, and his soul—it was silver. Like light. Pure. And I knew then he was just as much a human being as the rest of us, and he didn't d-deserve—nothing deserves…." He had to take a minute to breathe. 

Pomfrey rubbed Harry's back. "That changed your mind about the professor, hm?"

"Y-yeah. Well, no. I already knew. He's mean and snarky, yeah, and I certainly won't say I _like_ him—" 

_'I do. Merlin, I do. He's the only person I trust absolutely, and with good reason.'_

"—But he's not a bad person in spite of all that. He's saved my life so many times, even if he complains about it, and I couldn't just let him die. I couldn't let them r-ruin him."

Pomfrey sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Harry, there isn't much I can say without breaking Severus' confidence, but as you already know a good deal of his past, I think it's all right to tell you the man has suffered in his life. Greatly. He has never had a true ally, and… what you did for him tonight—well, suffice it to say you're the first to face down the dementors for him, and I imagine he doesn't know how to feel over it. So do try to be gentle on him for the next few days, even if he will, undoubtedly, make that a challenge."

"Yes, ma'am. I will." 

Hermione sniffled. "You're such a good person, Harry. I'm so proud of you."

Harry flushed. "Er, t-thanks, 'Mione."

Ron snorted. "She's right, mate. How did you do it, though? Was it just seeing Snape like that, or…?"

Harry let out a shaky breath. "I don't really know, honestly. That was a big part of it, but also they had you, and I couldn't let them—you're my friends. So, I don't know. I guess I got angry. And that was enough to snap me out of it. I just focused on the happiest memory I could think of and poured all I had into it, and, well, here we are."

"Merlin." Hermione beamed. "Well done, Harry. It's an incredible feat to have called a corporeal patronus at just fourteen even against one dementor, let alone hundreds."

"Yeah. You saved all of our lives." Ron's voice wobbled. "T-thank you, mate. Really."

Harry wiped his eyes. "You're welcome."

* * *

Sometime later, Harry woke to the sound of raised voices outside the Infirmary. 

"Where is the boy, Albus? I need to speak to him about tonight. Snape must be held accountable this time. Black was in our grasp, and he let him escape!"

"Cornelius," came Dumbledore's low voice, "I have already told you speaking with Harry will do you no good. Severus is, as always, innocent, and, as it happens, so is—"

"Poppycock, Albus! That man has evaded us for years, no thanks to your _protection_ , but someone had to help Black escape, and it could only have been Snape! He'll be in Azkaban for it this time, I tell you! For life, if I have anything to say about it."

"Now, Cornelius…."

Harry heard nothing further of Dumbledore's words. Fire surged to life in his veins, an inferno of molten rage and gut-churning disgust. Icy fear and furious outrage on behalf of an innocent man and the Ministry's incompetence. 

"No!" Harry staggered out of bed and stalked to the doors, ignoring Pomfrey's squawk of indignation. "No, you bloody self-serving arse! I won't let you do it." 

He threw the doors wide and glared Fudge down, hands on his hips and magic sparking on his skin.

"Ah, Harry," Fudge said with a nervous smile. "Just the man I wanted to—"

Harry cut him off, tone sharp and temper blazing. "Oh, stow it, you blustering coward! Snape is _innocent_ , and I won't let you hurt him. He was bloody well _unconscious_ when Black and Pettigrew escaped, so it was impossible for him to have helped them. Besides, he positively _loathes_ them both, with good reason, so he would probably throw a party if your aurors actually ever managed to catch them. He'd sooner gift wrap them for you and present them with a bow than help them escape."

Dumbledore's lips twitched. "An accurate assessment of the situation as it stands, my boy."

Harry ignored him. "Snape is innocent, Fudge, and I will fight you tooth and nail if you try to take him."

Fudge gave him a sympathetic smile. "Your loyalty is admirable, young man, but we have evidence of—"

"Evidence you _want_ to exist, you mean. I was _there_! Snape is doing his best to help us capture the bastards, not help them escape!"

"A blind, just a blind, child. Don't concern yourself with such matters."

Harry growled and stepped forwards, gratified to see Fudge move back and mop his brow. 

"Don't concern myself? I bloody well will if you're determined to persecute an innocent man!"

Fudge gave a nervous laugh. "I think you meant _'prosecute_ ,' and he isn't—"

Harry took another step forwards. "I meant what I said. You aren't following any sort of legal procedure. You've just decided Snape is guilty and never mind the evidence. You're not _prosecuting_ anyone, you overblown prig."

Fudge puffed up like a bullfrog. "Now, see here, young man. I—"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Do forgive me for interrupting what would, no doubt, be quite a fine bit of bluster, Cornelius, but I have also expressed deep concern with the Ministry's methods tonight. You are seeing ghosts that don't exist, and, as I have told you before, Severus is innocent of wrongdoing." He cast Harry a fatherly smile. "And, it seems, you will be in quite over your head if you choose to carry on with this, _ahem_ , persecution."

Harry nodded sharply. "Too right, you will."

Fudge scowled and smacked his hat atop his head. "We'll just see about that." With that, he huffed and stalked away. 

Dumbledore watched him go. "Hm. The Ministry's evidentiary procedure leaves much to be desired, as usual."

Harry gave him a wary look. "What are you going to do, sir? You aren't just going to let that buffoon make a scapegoat out of Snape, are you?"

"Why, Harry, your concern for Severus surprises me."

"Yeah?" Harry glared. "Unlike some people I could mention, I think all human life is worth protecting, even the lives of coldhearted berks." He wasn't speaking of Severus.

Dumbledore stroked his beard. "I see. Return to your bed, Harry. You have quite a lot of chocolate yet to work your way through, I think. I will see to our beloved potions professor's safety."

_"I will look into it…."_

So that's how it was, huh? Well then, that left Harry little choice but to take matters into his own hands. Again.

"Yeah? While you're at it, sir, you might want to sack the defence professor who sat on Black and Pettigrew's secrets for weeks and almost got all of us worse than killed." He gave him a hard smile. "Unless, of course, you want the entire school to know exactly how useless and reckless that sod really is and who enabled his presence here in the first place. Oh, and who did absolutely nothing to deal with Black the first time that nutter nearly murdered a student by Lupin's _time of the month_." 

With that, Harry slammed the door and crawled back into bed. Ha! Let the headmaster sit on his hands and leave Snape dangling _now._

"Are you quite finished, Mister Potter?" Madam Pomfrey's lips had almost disappeared and her hands rested on her hips.

Harry groaned. Not a good idea to enrage the bear in its den. Still, he didn't regret it. True, he had been rude. He had showed his hand with the old man too, probably, but Severus had needed him. Besides, given all he had been through that night, he had some excuse for being angry. 

He would try to right the situation later. For now, a bar of Honeydukes' Best and a rest was calling his name, even if sleep was impossible now.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, meek as a mouse, and let the matron work.

* * *

Later that night, Hermione whispered to Harry and Ron, "Boys, are you still up?"

As if Harry could sleep when Severus' fate hinged upon the headmaster's unreliable good will.

"Yeah."

From two beds over, Ron muttered, "He didn't deserve it."

"Who?"

"Snape. I can't stop thinking about it. You were right, Harry. He's a berk, yeah, but he's always been there for us in a pinch. Black and Lupin, if we'd had to depend on them, we'd all be dementor or werewolf food."

Hermione crept to Ron's bed. Harry sat on the opposite side.

"Yeah," Harry said with a sigh. "Thank god I made Lupin teach me the patronus charm. Snape couldn't save us this time—he tried, but between a concussion and…." He swallowed hard, hurt by the knowledge that Snape's life had been just as painful—or even more so—than his own. "He couldn't."

Hermione squeezed Harry's hand. "Harry, how long have you known all this? About what Lupin and Black did to Snape and the map and—you've been keeping a _lot_ of secrets."

Harry nodded. "Had to. They weren't my secrets to tell."

"That's never stopped you before."

"It's different this time." He shuddered. "Look, I _can't_ tell you everything I know, okay? I trust you, you know I do, but people will die if I…."

Hermione gasped. " _Die_?"

Ron gave him a shocked look. "What kind of secrets are you keeping, mate?"

Harry picked at the blanket. "We're in a war. As much as most of the world thinks it's over, you and I know he's still out there, biding his time. And Trelawney—that prophecy about the servant returning to his master—I reckon that's Pettigrew. So it's only going to get worse from here. 

"I don't know when Voldemort will come back, if it will be this year or the next or ten years from now, but it's coming. And there are people who—who are caught in dangerous places, caught in the middle yet doing all they can to protect us. So I can't tell you everything, because those people will die if I do."

Ron took Harry's hand. "All right, mate. I didn't realise you were in so deep, though."

"Yes, that's a terrible burden to bear so young." Hermione took Harry's other hand. "How long have you had to bear it alone?"

Harry blinked hard. "Since—since October."

"Merlin." Hermione rubbed his fingers. "Well, you don't have to anymore. We won't ask you to tell your secrets, but we'll support you, okay?"

"Yeah, mate. 'S what friends do."

Harry grabbed them both into a hug. "Thank you."

Ron groaned. "Ugh, Harry, still a little sore."

Harry chuckled and let him loose. "Sorry. You okay?"

"Fine." Ron relaxed on his pillows again. "So you worked out your patronus, yeah? No one could really see it at the match, it vanished that fast."

"Well, it wasn't actually fighting dementors," said Hermione with a harrumph.

"Yeah, but it was real this time, right? So what was it, mate? A person's patronus says a lot about their personality, you know."

Harry stifled a laugh in his hand. "Well, no one will _ever_ doubt I picked the right house. That's all."

"Picked the right…?" Hermione blinked. "You really had a choice?"

"Parselmouth, Hermione. Certain tendency to break the rules and get away with it. The ability to keep secrets and intimidate the pants off of cowards."

" _Slytherin_? Really?" Ron wrinkled his nose. "You were almost a Slytherin?"

"Does it change who I am?" Harry stared out the window. "Malfoy and his idiot friends are certainly no one I want to be like, but Daphne isn't so bad, and she's not the only one of them worth knowing. Besides, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew are all Gryffindors, and look at _them_."

"Fair point." Ron shrugged. "I reckon it doesn't change anything, but I certainly understand you better."

"That's all right then."

Hermione rubbed Harry's back. "You're our friend regardless, but what _was_ your patronus? You never said."

Harry grinned. "A lion. Big ol' ruddy mane and all."

Ron snickered. "Well, you were right, mate. You're definitely in the right house."

Harry beamed. He had the best friends in the world. 

Especially the one who couldn't appear to be a friend at all.

* * *

Severus had a raging headache when he woke the next morning, though, given all Albus had said about Fudge and the Ministry's idiocy last night, he supposed he should be glad not to wake in Azkaban. He sat up with a groan and summoned a headache potion and blood replenisher. He would pay the price now for all the blood he shed the night before, but if it meant Harry was safe one more day, it was worth it. 

God. That confrontation had rocked Severus to his core. He still couldn't believe Harry had defended him so staunchly, and in front of his godfather and Lupin, too.

The minute Severus had realised Black was trying to 'explain,' he had thought he would lose all hope of ever gaining Harry's trust. Instead, Harry had turned his beliefs on their head and…. A snicker escaped him at the memory of Albus' late night report. Apparently, the boy had hexed Black in the bollocks in return for his unprovoked attack on Severus. Good on him.

Severus lifted his blood replenisher phial in a salute. "Well done, Potter. Ten points to Gryffindor for ensuring no puppies ever spring from that mutt's loins."

With another snicker, he set the empty phial aside and dragged himself out of bed. Ugh. He definitely wasn't feeling his best. Then again, he had refused all offers of chocolate after a dementor attack. Well, not that he wouldn't have some, he just preferred his own stash to the headmaster's overly-sweet—and probably dosed—chocolate stores.

He summoned a bar of Honeydukes' Darkest and nibbled on it as he prepared a pot of tea. By the time he had finished the bar and his second cup, he felt much more human.

He padded to the bathroom and pushed his lank hair back from his face. Yes, those dark circles were to be expected after a night like the last, and he still looked a bit peaky. No surprise, given he had laid a line of magic-charged blood all around the shack and down half the length of the tunnel the night before. Neither Pettigrew nor Black would sneak in that way again, not while his wards lasted. Pity he couldn't also ward the entire grounds against animagi, but that would ward out their transfiguration professor, too, and the headmaster would not be pleased at the need to find a new deputy and Gryffindor head at this late date.

Gryffindors…. Severus felt around the back of his skull gingerly and wondered at the lack of a bruise. Merlin. Harry had truly healed him last night, with magic as powerful as Lily's had been. It still amazed him that the boy had tried at all, let alone half-carried him out of the tunnel and defended him from an entire flock of dementors. 

Flock, or perhaps a murder of them? The term fit dementors better than crows, to be sure.

Severus rubbed his face. He had damn near been murdered again last night—three bloody times—and he owed Harry his life in every instance. The amount of life debts between them must have truly piled up by now. It would bond them soon, if Severus wasn't careful.

He remembered the look in Harry's eyes at his grudging display of gratitude and sighed.

Perhaps it was too late to worry about bonds.

There was no helping it. Severus had vowed to guard Harry with his life long before Albus had forced that promise from him, and Harry, it seemed, had taken up the lonely mantle of guarding Severus' miserable hide, too. They were in this together, for better or worse, and he would just have to find a way to make it work. Harry, at least, seemed to understand the importance of discretion.

Severus paused partway through unbuttoning his nightshirt. Did the boy _know_? Severus didn't see how he possibly could, and yet, he couldn't deny the clear shift in Harry's behaviour from inside the tunnel and the public area of the Hogwarts grounds. 

Merlin. Perhaps he _did_ know, somehow.

Severus rubbed his chin in thought. Well, this merited observation, to be sure. Perhaps next year would make the boy's loyalties and understanding plain. For the moment, he was content to cherish the knowledge that the one person he cared for, the one soul he would lay his life down in an instant to protect, was willing to fight for him, too.

That, after a life of scraping affection and trust from the bottom of the barrel, meant everything to Severus.

* * *

Snape scowled at Harry over breakfast, and something tight and miserable inside the boy relaxed. Snape was okay. No Azkaban, no lingering injuries, though he looked peaky again. Still, whether it was another bout of his illness or just leftover weakness from the night before, Snape was here and able to take care of himself, and that set waves of light and warmth spiraling through Harry's belly. Snape would be okay now.

Unless….

Harry glanced to Lupin's place, and the light inside him doubled. Lupin was gone, Fudge was gone, Black and Pettigrew were gone, too, and that meant Snape was safe. _Severus_ was safe. Neither the Marauder prats nor the Ministry had taken him away, and that meant the danger had passed, for now. Harry didn't know if his little power play with the headmaster had done any good, but either way, his secret friend had pulled through, too, and all the major threats had been removed from Hogwarts.

Thank _Merlin_.

Harry piled rashers and eggs on his plate, having worked up an appetite after fretting over Severus in secret all night. He caught Snape watching out of the corner of his eye and knew Severus had been worried for him, too, even if he could never show it openly. The thought made his insides warm and fuzzy, though the knowledge that Black and Pettigrew were still out there and Voldemort was plotting his return worried him, too. 

This moment was enough. Maybe the world was mad and darkness waited just around the bend, but he could rest knowing all the people he cared most about would be all right, at least for now.


End file.
